


Thanksgiving

by SlothSpaghetti



Series: Sleepless In Stark Towers [18]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Academic Dishonesty, BAD EX BOYFRIEND RETURNS WITH A VENGENCE, Catholic Guilt, Catholicism, Cheating, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorder, F/M, Family Drama, Guilt, Hints of subspace, Manipulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religion, Tony Stark is good dom, Tony is a bit possessive, Toxic Relationship, aniexty, black mail, but I'm in to it, hints of little space, or a lot, revenge porn, teenage drinking, whumping my own OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlothSpaghetti/pseuds/SlothSpaghetti
Summary: You are back in Indiana for Thanksgiving.
Relationships: Tony Stark/OFC, Tony Stark/Reader
Series: Sleepless In Stark Towers [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965925
Comments: 26
Kudos: 86





	1. Your PoV

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags for this one. I really was just a meanie to my OC in this. Your media consumption is your own.
> 
> ALSO-------  
> Just gonna say this again, I'm totally writing this super self-indulgent fic for me. I'm hinting at a DD/LG style relationship here and I want that in this fic, so it's gonna happen more. I'm sorry if that ain't your thing, but also it won't be the main point of this fic, so you've been advised.

I didn’t hear from Tony again until Tuesday afternoon. 

On Sunday, the moment wheels hit the tarmac in Indianapolis, I messaged him to let him know I was at the airport. I also thanked him for upgrading my seat to business class because honestly, that helped keep my anxiety down. The flight had been surprisingly packed. The flight assistants even offered some people a free night at a hotel to stay behind for another flight. Being upgraded meant that my seat was safe, but also that I didn’t have to go through the ordeal of squeezing myself into the middle seat I would have undoubtedly been stuck with knowing my luck. 

My parents were waiting for me at arrivals… with Nathan. There they were, a cookie-cutter family unit, standing under the Welcome to Indianapolis sign and Ball State banner, which looking back on it felt really metaphorical because the moment I saw them a lead ball dropped in my stomach. The fact that I wasn’t just away from Tony for a week, but away and with my overbearing parents who couldn’t seem to fucking understand that horrible dickbag broke up with me, had already twisted my stomach up.

“Hi Sweetie,” my mom pulled me into a light, boney hug. “Oh this is nice, where did you get it?”

Her fingers danced over the soft material of my jacket, tapping firmly on the shoulder. The tone of her voice indicated a curiosity to know what I was doing with my money and how I could afford a new coat, not actually caring about the store I got it from.

“I- it was a gift,” she gave me an expectant look, “from Eddie.”

It felt worse having to call Tony by another name than it did lying to my parents. We’d agreed though, after a few Monday night calls and that very angry Tuesday morning call, I couldn’t just keep pretending like I was alone all the time. Tony had a problem keeping quiet during the call whenever my dad would inevitably say something stupid, or sexist, or racists, or would quote some Fox News headline that was a blatant lie. He hadn’t actually spoken to Tony yet because I didn’t want to hear that fight, but both of them knew him as Eddie, a guy at college who I spent nearly all my free time with.

“Well, that was awfully nice of Eddie, bless his heart.” 

“He buy ya that bag too?” 

My head turned, a frown on my face. Nathan would point that out. He would try and start something in front of my parents. 

“No, this I am borrowing from a roommate,” I lied, giving the bag a shake. 

“They really got some funny tastes at your college, Dumplin’,” he crossed his arms, putting his fists under his biceps to stretch the already tight fabric of his IU Athletics jacket around muscles. He had definitely gotten bigger, scarier, since August. 

“Alright, you’re here and we waited to go to church, it’s about an hours drive, and I’m not gonna be late,” my dad grabbed my bag and tossed his arm around my shoulder. 

Of course, they hadn’t gone to church yet. The entire drive back to Bloomington was silent. My mom and I occasionally glanced at one another in the back seat, but my mind kept refocusing on the crimson shoulders overflowing from the passenger seat in front of me. There was no doubt in my mind he knew exactly who Eddie really was and that scared me. 

During our relationship, even before we’d started ‘dating’, Nathan had a way of intimidating me in a way that made no sense. How a 17 year old was capable of frightening me with just his words and manipulating me into doing what he wanted was concerning. I was always a bit weak-willed, a people pleaser, but he seemed to feed off of that energy from me. My mind reeled at what he could possibly be capable of and how it would affect me now. Hearing him call me Dumpling again sent a chill down my spine. 

Church was another challenge on its own. The imposing brown sandstone structure towered over my existence growing up and it cast a long shadow. The heavy dark wood doors were open still when the car was parked. My mom looped her arm through mine and dragged me in behind the men. The weird scent of old people and incense set an uneasy lump in my throat. Vaulted ceilings, poplar cored sandstone columns, Austrian tile mosaics, Italian Marble altars, and Swiss stain glass windows, all of it exactly how it was when I left. It felt like it had been ages since I’d been here, but it was amazing what a few months of freedom had done for me. The rows and rows of pews were filled with wholesome-looking family units who wouldn’t think twice about telling someone they were going to hell.

I made it through the service. The words poured out of my mouth just like they were supposed to. The same old songs were sung and rites of peace were exchanged with a tight smile. Nathan made a point to grip my hand tightly and shake hard enough to hurt. During communion, my mom hustled up to be a eucharistic minister. The thin wafer dissolved in my mouth, settling like a rock in my stomach. A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder when I didn’t hit the kneelers quickly enough upon returning to our pew. 

Thankfully, there weren’t any comments about my clothes. I saw Nathan look me up and down multiple times. The black satin slip dress looked more like a nightgown than church appropriate outfit even with the shirt I wore. The short sleeve AC/DC shirt smelled like Tony and felt soft so I tried to find comfort in that. When he picked it out for me last night, I was more than a little excited that he wanted to see me wearing more of his clothes. Even if I didn’t exactly fit the “wearing your boyfriend’s shirt” stereotype. 

A part of me regretted letting Tony pack my bag now. There was no expectation of me to wear them, he knew I had clothes here as well, and any other time I would have been proud to wear what my daddy had picked out for me. Tony’s desire to dress me up all pretty for him made me feel special. He made me feel special and like my body was worthy of nice things. 

But now, standing with my designer coat covering up my expensive dress and my Italian leather boots shining against the faded carpet, I felt guilty. Even if all these people meant what they were saying about how good I looked, how it appeared city life was treating me well, I couldn’t believe them. I felt like I had walked into church in my underwear, exposed and on display for the wrong reasons. I tried to remember Tony’s excitement when I showed him the clothes I picked out, but the more people talked about nothing, the more the memory became skewed.

Once back at the house, I changed out of my clothes and put on what was expected of me. I needed comfort after that whole ordeal. Nathan fucked off back to his dorm almost immediately and I told my parents I wasn’t hungry for lunch. I didn’t leave my room until it was dark outside and they had gone to sleep. The keys to my mom’s car were heavy in my hand, the metal cross keychain clacking against the Hoosiers charm and wine cork when I snagged them from the hook. A loud protest came from the garage door when I pushed the button to open it. I drove around, swapping between the country and classic rock radio stations until daybreak. Familiar flashing lights and road signs flew by on backcountry roads that I probably knew better than the back of my hand. I thought to make a stop at the Denny's for a coffee and maybe something to eat, but my stomach protested and tightened until I drove through the empty parking lot back to the highway.

There was still no text from Tony. 

I snapped a picture of the sunrise and sent it to him, The empty, frost-covered fields glittered in the morning sun. A guilty feeling settled inside me. He was probably busy if he wasn’t reading my messages and bothering him to call me was not an option. Now was not the time to get clingy and weird. I refilled the gas tank and went home to shower before I had to go to work. 

While locking up on Monday evening, I saw JARVIS had pushed a notification through to my phone. Tony was unavailable until further notice. 

I cried myself to sleep while trying to manage these feelings of abandonment. My fingers fumbled through a good night message, hoping he was okay. Even though I missed him, I didn’t tell him. I was ignoring rule number one, the biggest rule on our list, but I didn’t care. He had never ignored me before, why would he start doing it now? The answer is he wouldn’t, but the voice in my head wouldn’t shut up.  _ You’ve done something wrong. You’ve really fucked it up. He’s found someone better _ . Every time I looked at my phone and saw he still hadn’t read the messages, the voice got a little more sure and a lot louder. My skin began to itch and tighten the longer I didn’t hear from him.

All of Tuesday was again spent working in my mom’s store. In the morning, I made more chocolate confections, I restocked shelves with Christmas themed kitchenware, and I made new batches of ice cream, anything to keep my hands and mind busy. Again, I found myself wondering how a woman like my mother, who was always dieting and thin as a rake, could own what was essentially a candy shop, but there wasn’t much time to linger on it. A last minute order for a wedding on Thursday of all days came in and my mom threw me into a flurry of work. Only I could make the little tuxedo on the strawberries look nice. The chocolate designs weren’t the same since I’d been away. New guilt settled in my chest.

The afternoon was slow, I worked steadily through the order while Mom slipped out for a not so secret smoke break. Just as I was getting into the rhythm of piping chocolate and losing myself in the task, Dolly Parton cut from my earbuds and my phone rang. I almost didn’t answer it. It was probably Peter or maybe even May checking in to see how I was doing and I couldn’t bring myself to lie about my current mental state. I felt shitty enough.

Tony’s face smirked at me from under the incoming call menu. Instantly my mind began to panic.  _ What was I thinking? He was going to be upset with me for not answering sooner. Oh god, what have I done? _

I dropped the piping bag and scrambled to swipe to answer the call, smearing white chocolate across the screen. 

“I’m sorry,” I rushed out, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m trying to be good I swear. I’m sorry I’m being annoying, I know you’re busy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

I paced to the far corner of the kitchen space and stood there, trying to calm down and hide from the security camera. 

“Woah, woah, woah, not upset,” I could hear the concern in Tony’s voice.  _ His Daddy voice _ , my brain instantly supplied. “I’m on a mission Honey, did JARVIS not send you a message?”

“It just said you were unavailable, I thought I did something wrong, I’m sorry Daddy,” I stared down at the tiles beneath my feet, feeling even more stupid as the tears continued to cloud my vision. I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling at the seams of my brown apron. 

“Sweetheart, where are you?"

"’M at work."

"Where are you at work?"

"I'm standing in the corner in the kitchen."

"And why are you standing there, Sweetheart?"

He was talking to me like I was a child, like he was my caregiver, and God did that feel like being wrapped in a blanket. He was the only one who had ever asked if I’d eaten or if I had slept. Peter and May cared, sure, but it didn’t feel like this. I always felt ashamed for bothering them. With Tony, it felt right. The tone of his voice was almost like syrup, coating me in honeyed warmth that made my whole body tingle. I could feel myself getting a bit lighter.

It didn't stop me from feeling guilty and like I'd done something wrong. 

"Sweetheart, I asked you a question…"

"I'm sorry Daddy," I sniffled. "I'm in the corner cause I'm… fe-feel bad."

"You aren't bad Babygirl. Even if you break the rules, what did I tell you?"

At the nickname, another tingly wave washed over me. 

"Even if I break the rules, I'm still Daddy's good girl."

"That's right, and I'm sure you haven't broken a rule so I want you to step outta the corner. What were you doing before I called?"

"I was decorating strawberries for a wedding on Thursday."

"Who gets married on Thanksgiving? That's ridiculous Baby."

I moved to stand in front of the marble workbench again. "Yeah, and I have to make 600 tuxedo and wedding dress covered strawberries for it."

"Why are you working at your mom's store? I thought you didn't like it there?"

"You can't say no to my mother. And at least here I can work and not think about Nathan being super fucking creepy. He was with my parents at the airport to pick me up and he went to church with us. I haven't seen him since then, but just - ugh - he makes my skin crawl."

"Changing the subject!" He sounded irritated. I hoped not at me. "What else's going on? How are you doing?"

"I haven't been able to wear the clothes you picked out for me Daddy," I confessed, feeling my lip tremble.

"Baby go back to doing your work and then tell me why," Tony instructed.

I picked up the piping bag and finished the berry I was working on before I explained.

"People were staring at me on Sunday all funny and I felt guilty,” I whispered. “I've been wearing your shirt to bed though."

"It's okay if you don't want to wear those clothes, Baby. I want you to be comfortable. I'm happy you are wearing my shirt, Honey. You should send me a picture," I could hear the smile in his voice. "Hey, I'm gonna have to hang up in a second. I'm almost done with my job here. I should be able to call you tomorrow morning when the mission is all wrapped up. I wanna talk more about how you're handling being with your parents."

"Why did you call if you were so close to being done?" I asked, trying to refocus so the bowtie I was making was straight.

"Oh well, I wanted to hear your voice for one cause I missed my pretty girl, and two because I needed a distraction while I disarmed this nuclear bomb."

I fucked up the strawberry I was painting. 

"Okay, I gotta go, love you Babygirl."

The line went dead again and Dolly's soft voice came back through the speakers. It wasn't until the piping bag suddenly farted out an air pocket, that I realized I'd wasted a good amount of chocolate. I cleaned up the mess and went back to work, feeling anxious, but slightly better.

That night I sent Tony a picture of my dinner for the first time since being away. I ate tomato soup and half a grilled cheese. Afterward, I sketched new painting ideas and posted it to Instagram, my first post in a few days.  _ Holiday WIPs, the Thanksgiving edition.  _ I went to bed at a reasonable time, not forgetting to send my message to Tony with a picture of me in his shirt. I was giddy for the morning, despite knowing I was going to have to discuss my feelings because at least I’d get to talk to Tony.

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

"Okay, look at this one," I pointed my finger at the rice pudding recipe.

"Ugh Doll, this isn't fair," Bucky groaned at the video chat. 

"Queenie, just steal the book, I can read it once, memorize it, and then you can mail it back to your grandpa," Steve sipped his coffee, not looking up from the file he was reading. 

Bucky had called me on Thursday morning after I had taken a picture of my great grandma's recipe book. The thick leather notebook was filled with old family recipes from the first world war up to when my grandma died a few years ago. The book was a sacred piece of family history. If I stole it, I might as well have just desecrated her grave too to add insult to injury. So I was showing him recipes and taking pictures of the ones he requested. 

That lasted for quite a while. Both of them tossing in stories about things they ate growing up and how much food was wasted by the youths these days. Both of them were adamant about coming to the tower any night I was cooking once I got back. I promised to make something from the book after finals, knowing that the three weeks before would be nothing but a stress-filled nightmare. 

"Dumplin', ya in here?"

I flinched. _ Why was he invited? Was his family here too? Don’t they have their own Thanksgiving? _

"Stay on the line," I hissed into the phone and put it into the breast pocket of my flannel shirt, camera facing out so Bucky could see what I was seeing, just in case. 

Nathan walked into the back bedroom I was hiding out in, again wearing a tight fitted IU football shirt, again showing off the muscles he’d gained in the short time I’d been gone, again trying to intimidate me.

"Thought I'd find ya in here, we need to have a talk," he closed the door, then leaned against it.

"I'm not speaking to you. You broke up with me."

"And now I'm unbreaking up with you."

I just stared at him, gobsmacked.

"No,” I scoffed. "Like fuck would I ever get back with you."

"Dumplin', you've got two choices." Nathan shifted off the door and moved to tower over me. "We either go back to the way things were and I won't I tell your parents you've been fuckin' Tony goddamned Stark for money, or we don't and I upload these photos of you to every social media and porn site I can find."

"Wha-what are you talkin' bout?" I flinched when he reached into his pocket. 

"Now, I know you can be dumb, but you can’t be that dumb. Think about what would happen if your sugar daddy saw these? What would your parents say if these showed up on national news? Aren’t you the one who told me once something is on the internet it can’t be deleted?" He flipped his phone around. 

There I was, in varying states of teen drunkenness and undress. I didn't remember much of that night except being forced drink after drink by Nathan and his friends. The next day, I woke up on the floor of my bedroom haphazardly redressed. Nathan told me I just drank too much and got hot, that no one else had seen me in my bra and underwear.

But now I was looking at evidence that not only had that been a lie, but Nathan had also taken advantage of me on the car ride back to my house. Pictures of me in the back seat of his mom's Buick with leggings around my knees, my shirt rucked up, and his dick in my ass appeared on his phone. 

I wanted to scream or cry, but all I could do was shake. A bottomless pit of writhing knots formed in my stomach. 

“So yeah Dumplin’, I’ve got a few assignments that need finished up for Monday, I’ll email ‘em to ya later. Come over to mine tomorrow, and you can make it up to me for cheatin’.”

Nathan left the room with a smile on his face like he hadn’t just done what he’d done. Like he hadn’t just threatened me with revenge porn. Suddenly my stomach lurched and I ran to the bathroom down the hall. Bucky was now shouting over the phone, words slightly muffled by the fabric of my shirt and retching.

"Doll, Stevie's calling Tony. Who the fuck was that? Is that the guy?"

I spit into the bowl, "yes."

"Stevie, get my murder sticks," he shouted.

"Buck, no," I groaned, flushing the toilet. "Just… just let me talk to Tony."

"I'M LAYING EGGS INSIDE HIS SINUSES, I'M GONNA WEB HIS-HIS DICK TO A BUS-"

"PETER. Shut it."

"Tony, I'm sorry," I murmured, still kneeling over the toilet.

"No, no, no," he hushed. "It was good you kept Barnes on the line. I've already gotten rid of whatever photos he had on his phone. He can't share them, Honey."

"I'm first in line to beat him up," Peter sounded absolutely furious. 

"Queenie, you need to go to the police."

Steve's words made me sick again. That was the last thing I wanted to do right now, the last thing I ever wanted to do. For so many reasons. The sound of gagging echoed around the room.

"Everyone off the call," Tony commanded. "Now."

Bucky told me to call if I need anything then hung up. I assumed Tony did as well when no one else spoke. God this was a nightmare. _Why couldn't I just have a normal time at home? Why was I so awful?_ I swished cold water into my mouth only to start choking again. 

When I left the bathroom, I ran into my aunt, forced to converse momentarily and pretend I was happy to be here. She continued to make conversation with me until the bathroom door closed, completely unaware I was moments for another breakdown. 

There were 14 missed calls from Tony by the time I made it to the other back bedroom. I grabbed my coat off the pile on the bed and hurriedly moved to leave the house. The kitchen was bustling with people, even more were lounging around in the living room, including Nathan's parents and older sister. She was still dressed in her uniform. I wondered if she was coming from or going to the station, but when Nathan made eye contact with me, I forgot it. I ran outside, briefly waving at my uncles and cousins who were smoking, before turning left and stomping into the backyard, not stopping until I was the property line of trees. 

"Jesus, are you okay? Why didn't you answer my call, Babygirl?"

"Needed to get outside. I couldn't be in that house, Daddy," my labored breath coming out in misty puffs, fingers getting cold already. "I'm not okay."

"Do I need to come and get you?" 

God did that sound like a fucking dream. My knight in shining red and gold armor coming to my rescue. 

"No, I just-just need to- a bit of time."

"Can you tell me why Steve's comment upset you?"

"Police won't do shit, Nathan's sister is a sergeant at the station."

"Baby, that's-"

"No! I can't Tony," I sobbed. "I just can't and I'm sorry and I know I should try because I couldn't consent-"

"What do you mean you couldn't consent? Steve told me he was blackmailing you with something on his phone. I didn't bother checking what was there before I corrupted his storage."

"He had pictures of me," I croaked. "Drunk and having… anal in his mom's car. I didn't even know he had them."

There was a beat of silence, "I'm sorry, Da-... Tony."

"No, Sweetheart, Daddy's sorry. I wish there was more I could do. Are you sure you don’t want me to come get you?"

"Just keep talkin’ to me," I blinked away tears and looked back down at the house, taking a deep breath. "How's Thanksgiving at home?"


	2. Tony's PoV

Turns out, there was a lot I could do without physically harming that motherfucking little caveman rapist piece of shit. 

For starters, I hacked his social media pages and scrubbed any reference of you from them before I changed his passwords and emails. I sent malicious viruses to his phone, his laptop, and his PS4. Peter suggested hacking his school email, so we did that and deleted all his school work. From there I remotely accessed all computers at his home, injected a virus into them, and included a warning message.

**_Don't fuck with me or what's mine._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna rip my own heart out now... byeeeeee


End file.
